My traveling companion along the AT – he doesn’t complain and he never fails to tell the truth about what he experiences.
So, obviously I’m not writing everyday. Some evenings I just can’t find the energy to do so.
I’ve luckily only had to dig a hole to shit in once. So that’s a plus. Thankfully most of the campsites we’ve stopped have a privy, basically a raised wooden box with a fake toilet over a mouldering pile of crap, which isn’t really that bad.
Some of the views we get more than make up for the blisters and pain. I’m currently writing this while sitting on the cliffs of a site called Annapolis Rocks, the sunset vieled behind a heavy curtain of rainclous covering the farms Bellow.